Ripple: As Told By Kamui Shirou
by Death by Sakura
Summary: Sorata and Arashi from Kamui's POV during Episode 20: Ripple.


AN: Okay, I know the end is slightly OOC for Kamui (Kamui actually almost takes initiative?! gasp!), but I wanted to write it anyway. I don't like this one quite so much as the one I wrote in the same spirit—"Slaughter: As Told by Kamui Shirou," but I'll just edit this thing to death and maybe I'll like it just as much. Seishirou and Subaru are my babies, so I put everything I had into that fic, trying to do them justice. For this fic, I'm not quite so overly descriptive with everything. I'm just a recently awakened Sorata/Arashi fan (Hurrah for episode 20!), so I haven't grown quite so comfortable with these guys yet. Maybe if I write more, it'd be better. shrug And I honestly never thought I'd write ANYTHING from Kamui's POV… But here I am on the SECOND fic from his POV. O.o;; And for all you Japanese-illiterates out there, kotori means "small bird", and is written the same as Kotori's name.  
  
  
  
"Ripple: As Told By Kamui Shirou"  
  
"I've decided that it's you. You are the person I will give my life to."  
  
"Sorata-san!" Arashi cried frantically as she came, swift, upon Sorata and I. He hung limply over my shoulder, blood seeping from his facial wounds. In addition, he was mentally as well as physically exhausted from his spell. I could barely hear his labored breathing—I honestly didn't know if he would live or die, and I couldn't do anything about it.  
  
At Arashi's exclamation, I, mesmerized by Sorata's abused body, managed to tear my eyes away and look up in surprise at her. I don't remember if I ever heard her with emotion in her voice before that. I was understandably startled. The uniform she wore was dirty, torn from her fight with the Dragon of Earth and she looked as exhausted as we all were. Her arms lay at her sides, face obviously full of grief and worry. I was completely taken aback by her lack of perfect control over herself. If I hadn't known the infamously stoic Ise Maiden better, I would have been sorely tempted to say that she looked as if she would cry over Sorata's pain.  
  
"Sorata-san!" She said again. As she sunk to her knees beside him, I lowered him to set him on the ground. I feared to move him, lest his wounds rip further. Arashi repeated his name many times, each more full of anguish than the last. Amazingly, Sorata wasn't unconscious yet, as he strained his reluctant body to look up at Arashi and ask if she was all right.  
  
"Nee-chan, are you hurt?" When Arashi denied any injury and began to voice her concern about his noticeably grave wounds, Sorata interrupted.  
  
"If you're not hurt, then everything's okay." He said hoarsely and smiled weakly. The look in his coffee-colored eyes was one of such adoration and absolute devotion that I felt a pang of jealousy, envying their ability to love… and be loved in return. I had no such luxury with Fuuma. What kept them both sane and able to go on was their love for each other; though that knowledge was well known by many of those involved with the Promised Day, it was never spoken aloud. Suddenly, a shot of pain ran through Sorata's body, incapacitating him. He coughed violently as blood poured from his mouth.  
  
"Sorata," I shouted to him, the concern plain in my voice. "Hang in there!" Arashi echoed my own pleas, her voice growing louder and louder as Sorata sunk further and further into the dark, bitter oblivion of unconsciousness.  
  
  
  
...  
  
  
  
"Arashi, Sorata might not be able to move his right hand anymore." I said reluctantly. I paused just long enough to let the full impact of the sentence fall upon Arashi as waves upon a rocky shore.  
  
"No, it's a lie! That can't be," she said, her voice forceful. She knew as well as I that without his hand, Sorata would not be able to raise his kekkai, and if a Seal cannot raise a kekkai, he is useless. How else could a Dragon of Heaven protect the Earth on the Apocalypse and all the days before it? I averted my eyes and closed them, not wanting to look at Arashi as her eyes grew damp. The room was silent for a moment as the last, red sunbeams of twilight pierced the room. Before anything else could be said, Arashi left to resume her vigilance over Sorata with a melancholy look. I did not see her again that night.  
  
…  
  
Later that evening, as I passed by the room where Sorata lay, I saw that the door was closed. That was unusual. I always made sure it was open, so people could easily check-in on Sorata. I paused in front of the door, my hand resting on the door handle, but before I could turn it, I heard voices. Sorata was awake? That alone almost caused me to burst through the door, but I caught a few words, making me stay my hand. The thick oak door muffled the voices, but what was said was unmistakable.  
  
"Nee-chan… Arashi… Are you sure you want this?" He sounded almost hesitant.  
  
"Yes, Sorata-san. Yes." She replied with some urgency.  
  
I heard no more words—only whispers and moans violated my ears. I did not disturb them; I simply continued to my room, to sleep in my own bed, alone. I envied them. I slept cold, without the one I loved, while they could rest comfortably in the warmth of their love for each other. I could almost hate them for it.  
  
…  
  
Next morning, I woke to find Sorata's door slightly opened. Out of an almost morbid curiosity, I pushed the door a bit farther and looked into the room. Sorata lay, asleep, the morning's light just beginning to touch his face. Beside him was an empty recess in the sheets. She must have left just recently, since the sheets and pillow had not regained their shape yet. But why did she leave? Why, after such a wonderful consummation of her and Sorata's love did she abandon him? Would she return?  
  
A reason then came to mind. Arashi was an Ise shrine maiden. Could Arashi make a kekkai without her virginity? Could she still protect the Earth with her sword? Did her priestess powers derive from her virginity or from herself? That could be a serious problem when the Promised Day was upon us.  
  
Oh, poor Sorata. I could not help but feel sorrow and a bit of pity for him. No note, no message, no explanation was given. No consolation, I knew, would be adequate. And so I left, leaving him by himself, realizing he was the only one who could find an answer that possibly did not even exist. Or maybe I left because I just didn't want to tell him I thought Arashi a bitch for what she did.  
  
…  
  
Something was wrong, terribly wrong. I stood outside the house and felt the wind whisper foreboding secrets into my ear like a gentle lover. I felt the aura of the Dragon of Earth brush past me and it seemed to chuckle wickedly as I sharply inhaled.  
  
A small, white bird fluttered through the air and I suddenly thought of Kotori. It flew close to me and I beckoned it with my hand. I was surprised when it actually perched on the side of my hand. It looked up at me, black eyes gleaming. When it chirped cheerfully, a pain stabbed my heart as I remembered the fragile kotori I once had. Suddenly, the bird grew very silent and very still. I stroked its back, trying to get a response, but it did not move. The bird was not dead, as I could feel its tiny heart beating frantically. It was as if it could hear and see and feel, but could not do anything. As I looked into its tiny eyes, I felt myself drawn into them. Suddenly, as I stared at it, a liquid began to seep from its eyes. The stuff was thick—a dark red. I nearly dropped the bird when I realized it was blood. When the small thing tried to cheep in panic, only a strangled gurgle came from its mouth. And more blood. In terror, I closed my hand over the bird, not wanting to watch it die before my eyes. I held it there silently for what seemed to be only a moment, but when I blinked and looked into the sky, the sun said it had been nearly and hour. I slowly opened my hands and found the bird cold. It was very dead. The blood had poured from its invisible wounds and drenched my hands, caking in the joints of my fingers. I let out a small yelp and dropped the beautiful kotori. It wasn't until that moment that I noticed its head was dismembered. It was a cruel joke.  
  
As the wind erupted into a violent fury and tore at the greenery surrounding the house, I stepped back into the house and came to a conclusion. If I wasn't sure before, I knew certainly then—Fuuma was a sadistic fuck.  
  
…  
  
Hinoto says Fuuma has one of the Seals. Losing Subaru was enough. We shouldn't have lost the Ise girl. I don't want to tell Sorata. He would die of grief. Or erupt into a fantastic show of violence. I don't want to find out. Though I know he'll beat me when he finds out, I don't want to cause him undue suffering. He is happy in his little illusion. It should not be ruined. I shall carry alone for the time being. Sorata should be saved from suffering. All my Dragons of Heaven should. I don't want them to suffer as I have. Because that is… my Wish. I wish to protect the Seals from the pain and suffering which unkind Love thrusts upon us. No, that's not quite right. I want to protect all humans from Love… because I am Kamui, "he who serves God's Will."  
  
And right now, Sorata is the one who needs protection. 


End file.
